


an empty well

by coolstarboy



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Gen, Mentions of Blood, i genuinely dont know how else to tag this my bad, i guess nerevar/vivec/voryn if you really squint, i just think chimer like to cuddle, past nerevar/almalexia, they/them pronouns for vivec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolstarboy/pseuds/coolstarboy
Summary: --"And Almalexia?"--"We don't communicate. Without the Heart, our divine powers must diminish. She takes her divinity very seriously, and the loss weighs heavily on her. She tends to brood, and I fear she will do herself and others harm."novelization of the almalexia fight in tribunal. yes i am sad.
Relationships: Indoril Almalexia/Indoril Nerevar, Nerevarine & Vivec (Elder Scrolls)
Kudos: 9





	an empty well

**Author's Note:**

> okay some quick notes:
> 
> 1\. my nerevarine is half bosmer but looks mostly dunmer. after the corprus thing his scars turned into chimeri skin and his whole left arm was golden, which explains the "chimeri hand" bit there. and hes literally nerevar reincarnated, so he has memories of his past life etc
> 
> 2\. he has an adoptive breton sister named elodie, who he loves v much, and shes back in cyrodiil training to be a mage, and she always wanted to be chosen to live in clockwork city
> 
> 3\. my hc is that tribunal happens a few Years after the death of dagoth ur, before red year-- almalexia feels the pressure of her loss of divinity, the struggle to hold up baar dau, the fear of fading into irrelevance, etc etc and thats what causes her to go insane and try to consolidate all the divinity thats left for herself. so thats also why my nerevarine meets sotha sil a couple of times and knows him, because its bullshit that he died before the game even fuckin started and i love that sad tall bastard

The corpse of Sotha Sil was certainly a sight to behold, nothing like his calm, quiet nature-- the body itself looked pained, extroverted in its feeling, metal-plated jaw twisted into a pained scream. Its skin clung to bones as if he had been mummified, and his head lolled back. Falayn stood frozen, shocked and afraid, and reached out to touch what had once been his friend-- the corpse swayed in its suspension, head rolling forward and pieces of Sotha Sil’s old enhancements looking dangerously close to falling off of the dry, ashen flesh and cracking bone.

Falayn choked back a sob, falling to his knees-- he had wanted so badly for Elodie to meet him, to know what had once been his own family, and to meet the living god-mage that she had always found so fascinating, and his heart dropped to his stomach because that god was dead and he was so, so afraid.

Before he could even think to look for whoever had done this, he felt a rush of magic and turned to see Almalexia.

She was in her full armor, and he remembered it-- how strong she was, how terrifying. Her mask glinted in the low light, the green jade standing out against the bronze of the city like a phantom. She began to pace, tapping Trueflame against the cold metal floor. 

“Nerevarine.” She held her gaze on him as she walked. “Here it ends. This Clockwork City was to be your death. You were to be my greatest martyr! The heroic Nerevarine, sacrificing all to protect Morrowind from the mad Sotha Sil. But you live! You live!” Almalexia laughed to herself, a cruel sound. 

Falayn stood, and brought about his shield. He did not yet unsheathe a blade. “Ayem,” a raspy whisper, too quiet for her to hear over the ringing projection of her voice.

“Fear not. I will tell the tale myself when this is done. I will tell my people how with your dying breath you proclaimed your devotion to me, the one true god.” She turned to look at him then, face hidden, but he knew the crazed look in her eye. “Your death will end this prophecy and unite my people again under one god, one faith, one rule by my divine law.”

“Ayem,” louder, this time, but his voice wavered, threatening to break.

She continued as if she had not heard him, her voice rising. “The puppet king will lay down his arms and bow to my will. Those who do not yield will be destroyed. The Mazed Band has allowed me to travel to this place. Here, I slew Sotha Sil. Here, I summoned the Fabricants to attack Mournhold.” 

“Ayem,” another pleading sob.

She seemed to hear him, now, and grew angry. “I will be the savior of my people! I alone will be their salvation! None may stand in my way. Not you, and certainly not Vivec. He is a poet, a fool. I will deal with him when I have finished with you.” She looked behind him now, quieting. “And Sotha Sil...he always thought himself our better, shunning us, locking himself in this hole. He spoke not a word as he died. Not a whisper. Even in death, he mocked me with his silence! ”

“Ayem, please,” Falayn cried out, begging, _“Ayem!”_

Something seemed to snap within her, and her voice grew to a roar. “But I think you will scream, Nerevar! For now, you face the one true god!" 

\--

Falayn collapsed, retching onto the cold metal floor, screaming out sobs to his dead friends. He dragged himself over to Almalexia’s corpse, still so warm and soft and _bleeding,_ and he held her, as closely as he could, and the sobs wracked his small rib cage with so much force he thought he would bleed out with her. He buried his face in her chest and breathed, smelled her, too afraid to let go again. If he did, he was afraid she would turn into ash like Seht was.

After what felt like a small eternity, he was too hoarse to keep screaming. Instead he began to look at her. He closed her eyes, gently, and kissed her face, lingering there to look at the tattoo on her cheekbone. He reached across and stroked it awkwardly. He felt he should do it with his Chimeri hand, that it was what she would have wanted. 

Another while passed and he began tracing her tattoos, and the henna, and cried silently as he did. Her skin was still so soft, as it had been eras ago, when they were young. Newlyweds, afraid and excited, chosen for each other but deciding they were in love all the same. The lump grew hard in his throat when he saw a small henna moon on the inside of her wrist, barely noticeable and faded. It was likely weeks old, and he pressed a kiss to it. He knew it was probably nothing, not meant for him, but if he acknowledged this it would kill him. He knew it would.

After hours of laying with her, she began to grow cold. He stared up at Seht, or what remained of Seht, blank-eyed and exhausted of any emotion. His gnarled hands and pained expression haunted him, and he knew it would for eternity. He wondered how it had happened, when it had happened. Was he afraid? Or was he silent? Falayn imagined it would be the latter. He had only met Seht a brief few times, in this life, but the god-mage always felt pained, guilty. Always so quiet, so understated even with his towering stature and intimidating enhancements. And just below the surface, an ocean of hurt that he didn’t bother hiding well. Falayn had known this couldn’t have been a _tantrum._ He should have seen the trap days ago.

\--

The moments turned to hours, and Falayn had no idea what time it was when he awoke. He stared at Almalexia, her form deathly still. Before he blinked the sleep out of his eyes he could have sworn they were just sleeping together again, tangled up in their bed like they used to. Any moment Voryn and Vehk would come in, getting in bed, careful not to wake Ayem. She wasn’t much of a morning person. 

But then he saw the gashes, and the blood. And he remembered.

A bluish light appeared, then, not overpowering, but enough to make him squint in the dark chamber. He saw Azura’s figure, holding the moon and star, and sat up with a start. 

_"You have done well, mortal. The death of Almalexia is a boon for all of Morrowind, though it may take time for this to be understood. She would have betrayed the Dunmer as surely as she betrayed all those she loved. This was her curse, and this was her undoing. Weep not for Sotha Sil. He shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him. These gods lived with the burden of a power no mortal was meant to possess."_

Falayn teared up again, the vision of the Prince blurring. Her demeanor did not change.

_"Your work in Morrowind is not finished, Nerevarine. Vivec still lives, but I believe his time grows short. Protect my people. Defend these lands. The skies of Mournhold are clear once again. Let these people suffer no longer. Now go, mortal. Embrace your destiny, and go with my blessing."_

The light disappeared, and Falayn began to cry again, sinking back down onto his wife’s cold form.

\--

It was later still when Falayn regained the strength to walk, and he teleported directly to Vivec city and made a beeline to the palace doors. The armigers standing guard exchanged confused, concerned glances at seeing the Nerevarine covered in old blood and dry tear stains. But they stepped aside, nonetheless, and Falayn was free to enter as he always was. 

The god-monarch’s audience chamber was empty, the air still warm and heavy with incense as they liked it. Falayn walked directly to Vivec’s private bedchamber, opened the door, and dropped Trueflame on the ground with a loud clatter.

Vivec seemed to have been meditating, and looked up with a start at the noise. They stared at him, eyes raking the caked blood and sweat on his clothes, and the tear stains on his face. Their eyes locked onto his, then, seeming to beg for an answer that Falayn couldn’t give.

And Falayn thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but he could, and he was, and he felt himself fall to the ground as if he watched from somewhere far away. Vivec alighted and rushed over to him, walking as Falayn had never seen him do in this lifetime, and he might have cracked a joke or two if it wasn’t happening then.  
Vivec kneeled next to him and held him in their doorway, grabbing at his shirt with one hand and cradling his head close to theirs with the other. They wept together, acknowledging for the first time what they were, and what they had lost.


End file.
